


rest your weary head

by purple01_prose



Series: blow us all away [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Windblade
Genre: 5 Times, Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Female-Centric, Fluff, Male-Female Friendship, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple01_prose/pseuds/purple01_prose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accounting of all the weird places Windblade found herself catnapping while recovering from sleep deprivation. Part of the college au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rest your weary head

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during Ch.6 of "third time's the charm". I had all these cute ideas and places for Windblade to fall asleep, but unfortunately I couldn't fit them into the main narrative, so it's not technically a deleted scene--these all _did_ happen and have bearings on the main story--but merely an extended montage. Tooth-rotting fluff abounds.

**1)** **THE NEW COUCH**

 

Nautica hummed as she unlocked the door. Brainstorm needed to stop baiting Percy. He kept waiting for Percy to respond, but Percy just grew more and more cold. It made working in the lab nigh unbearable, and she was getting ready to stage an intervention.

 

Maybe she’d get Skyfire to play referee.

 

“I’m home,” she announced, unwinding her scarf. South Carolina cold had, the previous winters, seemed _so_ cold, but then she had hiked all over the Alps. It hadn’t mattered that it was in the summer. The cold had settled into her bones, some nights, and she hadn’t thawed out entirely until they’d gotten to Spain.

 

Still, going out without a coat while snow was coming down was _not_ a good idea. She stripped off her gloves and shoved them into her pockets, and when there wasn’t an answer, she paused in unbuttoning her coat. “Windblade? You home?”

 

It was four in the afternoon on a Tuesday. She worked with Prime in the morning, so she should be home. Unless—Nautica dug out her phone. Windblade was pretty good about letting them know when Starscream had co-opted her for the evening, but...there wasn’t a message from Windblade to that effect.

 

Nautica’s skin buzzed with the beginnings of panic, but she shoved it down. It wouldn’t be helpful.  She glanced over into the living room to see if Windblade’s stuff covered the coffee table, and her eyebrows went up when she saw the new couch. She couldn’t understand how her eyes had slid over it—it was a bright red, and attention-grabbing. “Sweet, the new couch arrived. Windy?”

 

As she came around the couch, she saw Windblade laid out on the couch—her feet were on the ground but she was folded over her notes, her face mashed against one of her textbooks. Her laptop had a black screen on the coffee table, so she’d clearly been passed out for a while.

 

Nautica considered her. That could _not_ be comfortable.

 

She knelt down next to her and placed her hand on Windblade’s shoulder. Windblade was a pretty light sleeper, so that should be enough to wake her up.

 

Windblade didn’t stir.

 

The panic started buzzing again, and Nautica shook her lightly. “Windy? Wake up.”

 

Windblade mumbled something, her eyes blinking slightly, and she focused on Nautica. “...Nautica?”

 

The panic receded and Nautica managed a smile. “Girl, if you’re so tired you’re taking a nap, do it on your bed, okay? You don’t need the back strain.”

 

“I didn’t exactly plan to take a nap,” she yawned as she pushed herself upright. “I was working on my honors seminar and the words started to blur and then...”

 

“I get it.” Nautica leaned back as Windblade gathered up her notes. There was an ink stain on her cheek, and Windblade tucked her hair behind her ears. “You’re not the type to nap.”

 

“I’ve been so tired, I don’t get it. I’m sleeping 8 hours a night again.”

 

Nautica shrugged. “Not a doctor.” She rose. “I was thinking about pasta for dinner, you cool with that?”

 

“Yeah, I think so. Want some help?”

 

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m gonna say no. I need to decompress from my lab work, and you probably want to see how behind you are.”

 

“Oh _god_.”

 

Nautica grinned. “That’s my girl.”

 

\--

 

 **2)** **STARSCREAM’S COUCH**

 

“So I have pizza, soda for me and that weird Snapple stuff for you, and _Mad Max_. You in?”

 

Windblade didn’t spare him a glance. “I’ve got to finish this.”

 

“It’s due in three days, and it’s mostly done anyway. Come _on_. You deserve a break.”

 

“You’re only saying that because you want me to take a break.”

 

“I can say you deserve a break and want a break of my own at the same time, you know. Self interest doesn’t always have to only be self-effective.”

 

“I just love how you can turn an exercise in self interest into ‘concern’ for ‘other people.’” She looked up at him, her mouth twitching slightly. “Let me guess, if I say no, you’d physically take my notes away from me?”

 

He smirked. “Well, I was hoping not to have to go that far.”

 

“Is the pizza already here?” she inquired, _deeply_ unamused.

 

His smirk turned cockier by three degrees. “On its’ way.”

 

“Is it veggie?”

 

“I have your meatless Monday meal, yes.”

 

“You _know_ I’m not vegetarian.”

 

He leaned against the wall. “That’s your objection?”

 

She deliberately looked back down at her notes. “No, my objection is that I have work to do and you’re wasting my time.”

 

He groaned and perched on the arm of the couch. He grabbed her arm, and she looked up. “Fine. Yes, I have your veggie pizza. It’s on the way. Satisfied?”

 

“Not even a little.” She closed her notebook. “You’re lucky that I haven’t eaten since before noon.”

 

“Really.”

 

She pointed at him with her highlighter. “Don’t starting doing the mom thing now. You were doing so well.”

 

“You want some of that Snapple? I managed to get the kind that used artificial sweetener, just for you.” She frowned at the vicious edge under his words, but she decided to let it go.

 

“Yes please.”

 

He got the ding from his phone after he’d gotten it for her, and he leaned over to pull on her braid. She batted his hand away with a grimace. “I’ll be back, stay out of trouble.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Asshole.” He left and she unscrewed the cap. He’d gotten her the raspberry Snapple, a flavor she personally disliked but it was better than water with pizza. She made a face after she swallowed, but she continued to put away her notes. She didn’t want to risk pizza grease on her notes.

 

“And the pizza is here.”  Starscream angled the door open with his foot, and she raised her eyebrows when she saw three pizza boxes.

 

“Planning on feeding more than just us?”

 

“Skywarp and Thundercracker will want something in exchange for us kicking them out.” Starscream put the pizza boxes down in the kitchen. “I mean, not that they’re not out enjoying themselves, but pizza helps.”

 

“Part of the process of breaking in your roommates?” she asked dryly, getting up to help him. He shook his head at her, and she leaned on the fake sill. “Learning how to bribe them?”

 

“Like you don’t know how to bribe yours?”

 

She tapped her chin. “Hm. Chromia likes cookies and Nautica likes attention. Chromia can cook but can’t bake to save her life, and Nautica needs someone to let her info-dump periodically so she can deal with anxiety stuff. In order to seal the deal for both of them, it also helps to occasionally do things like wash their sheets. It’s a balance.”

 

“What would they say about you?” He leaned on the counter on the other side of the sill, and he was close enough for her to feel his body heat.

 

Her pulse jumped.

 

“That’s cheating,” she shrugged and stood upright. “Put some cracked red pepper on my slices, please?”

 

“Done.”

 

“Thanks.” She sat back down on the couch and crossed one leg over the other. “So why _Mad Max?_ ”

 

“I’ve been wanting to see it but not with Skywarp or Thundercracker. They talk, and Thundercracker is squicked easily. Skyfire has no interest in a film starring explosions and car chases, so process of elimination left you. Have you seen it?”

 

“Chromia saw it in theaters, loved it, but I haven’t exactly had the time to stay up to date.” She leaned back against the cushions as he brought plates over. “I’ve heard good things from her, though.”

 

“Here we go, then.” He placed the DVD in the drive and his laptop screen blacked out. Windblade started in on her pizza—he’d gone to the brick oven place, oh _Solus_ —and handed him back his plate. He took it and settled himself comfortably against the corner of the couch.

 

She was done with her pizza about halfway through the first major chase scene, and by the time Max was integrated into the group, she was leaning against Starscream, her eyelids heavy. Any time she sat down long enough, she ran the risk of falling asleep, and Starscream was warm. The dorm room was just a little too cold, and she tucked her feet under her body in an effort to keep them warm.

 

“Are you cold?” Starscream’s arm was around her shoulders, and he was tucking her against his chest. It was more comfortable than it should have been.

 

“Just a little,” she mumbled.

 

His arm strained against her back, and then something heavy settled over her, and she looked over to see a knitted blanket. He brought it up to her shoulders and she snuggled into it. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

 

“No problem.”

 

The screen dimmed as night fell in the film, and it was the last thing Windblade needed. The need to sleep took over, and her eyes slipped closed.

 

She was awoken by her shoulder being shaken. “Mmmmat?”

 

“Are you seriously sleeping through _Mad Max?_ ”

 

“M’tired.” She shook off his hand and tucked her face more securely against his sweater. “Lemme alone.”

 

“You know, you’re almost...adorable.”

 

“Shuttup.”

 

“Fine. Sleep on me.”

 

“Gonna do that anyway.”

 

He snorted. “Oh good.”

 

She twisted her hand in her neckline. “Quiet.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” His hand settled on her head, and she froze minutely before he started to stroke her hair. That was, guaranteed, the fastest method to get her to relax, and before long, she was asleep for real.

 

Starscream wasn’t sure how to handle it. No one had ever trusted him that much before, and it felt—fragile. Breakable. He didn’t know if he wanted it to break or not.

 

 _Damnit_ , Windblade.

 

\--

 

 **3)** **OPTIMUS’ CHAIR**

 

Windblade hummed quietly to herself as she brought in paperwork. She’d been grading some essays—well, more like she’d applied Optimus’ rubric to his Intro students and wrote her notes on them to guide his grading process. He would be back soon from his International Human Rights class, and she wanted to have the essays on his desk before that happened.

 

She sat down in his chair and set to organizing the essays and rubrics. Optimus was one of the old-fashioned types who preferred his students to hand in printed essays, because he liked to write all over it. It was a little easier to read that way, anyway.

 

She leaned back in Optimus’ chair as she picked up the stapler. It was too many essays to paperclip the rubrics to; she would just end up undoing the staples later, after he’d graded it and logged the grades.

 

The chair was _really_ comfortable, and she caught herself nodding off twice. She sat upright in an attempt not to fall asleep. He would be back soon and she’d already fallen asleep at her desk once. He’d woken her up by tapping on the desk; she considered that the fact she’d completed his to-do list was the only reason she hadn’t been fired.

 

Falling asleep in his chair would be unforgiveable.

 

Her lower back started to ache, and with a grumble at herself, she settled herself in the chair so that her lower back got the support it needed.

 

She leaned back further as she approached the middle of the pile, and she hissed to herself as she cut her finger on the corner of one of them. She sucked on her finger and looked for a tissue box. Optimus had his own allergies and always kept one close.

 

She found it and wrapped the tissue around her finger. She had more papers to staple, and the pain would keep her awake.

 

Optimus arrived to his office and pushed the door open a little further. Amusement rose when he saw Windblade sitting in his chair, fast asleep, an essay still in the stapler in her lap. He’d slept in that chair many times himself; his former TA had napped in it once or twice too.

 

The one student he knew of was coming in to discuss paper parameters, nothing sensitive. He could meet with them in the main area, as long as the student coming was comfortable with it. He knew Windblade wouldn’t be irresponsible; she deserved some slack.

 

Windblade blinked awake and looked down at the essay in her lap. How much time had she lost—oh _shit_. She jumped out of the chair and put the essay on the desk. Optimus’ class had been over for thirty minutes, so he should have come back by now and—she saw him talking to a student, and she shrank back. She was so fired. She couldn’t go back to working at Thunderclash’s. She loved her current schedule and she didn’t want to go back to what her schedule was.

 

But she needed the job.

 

She still had essays to finish putting rubrics with. It would have to wait until his student left, even if it meant her heartbeat was thundering in her ears and her fingers were shaking slightly. She had never been fired before. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

 

The student left, and Optimus unfolded himself from her desk and came in. She tried to smile at him and promptly fell short, and he tilted his head at her in concern as he leaned against the doorframe. “Are you all right?”

 

“I’m fine, sir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep at your desk--,” maybe if she spoke fast enough, he wouldn’t fire her. Oh Solus, _please_.

 

“Windblade, it’s fine.”

 

“I promise it won’t happen, I _swear_ \--.”

 

“Windblade. It’s fine.”

 

“This was a—wait. What?”

 

“Windblade, you’re one of the most reliable TAs I’ve ever had. You get some slack. It’s all right, I promise.” He smiled. “Please don’t make a habit of it, but you know that if you’re sick, it’s all right to call out?”

 

“I’m not sick. I’m not fully sure what’s going on, but I have an appointment with a doctor at the student health center tomorrow,” she said faintly. “You’re...certain it’s all right? I thought you were going to fire me.”

 

“And have to go through the process of finding a new TA? I don’t hate myself that much.” He moved across the room and around the desk to look at her more closely. “I promise that it’s all right. Just tell me if you need a day off, all right?”

 

“I will.” Her voice broke. “I’m—sorry, I just wasn’t expecting this to be your reaction.”

 

He squeezed her shoulder. “I enjoy working with you, and while I check your work I almost never have to make any corrections. I feel comfortable passing you off most questions from my undergrad students. I’m not going to fire you.”

 

She breathed out sharply. “T-Thank you, sir.”

 

His smile was so gentle her heart almost broke. “You can call me Optimus.”

 

\--

 

 **4)** **STARSCREAM’S BED**

 

“I have been Nautica’s best friend for several years and I _still_ don’t understand what Thundercracker’s talking about with his study group,” Windblade complained as she closed Starscream’s bedroom door.

 

He didn’t look up from his notes. “Yeah, that’ll happen. Hey, what’s the Council of Constance again?”

 

“It’s the council that met to end the Western schism, it deposed a pope and elected a new one. And before you ask, the Western schism was the split between two Roman Catholic factions, one based in Avignon and the other based in Rome.” She sat down on the bed and tucked her feet under her body.

 

“Those Roman Catholics be crazy.”

 

“It’s amazing what politics can do to you.”

 

“Was that directed at me?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

 

“That you read that meaning into it is completely independent of my influence,” she deadpanned. “That’s what you want to do our next presentation on, right? The Council of Constance?”

 

“It doesn’t exactly relate to property rights,” but that wasn’t a no.

 

“Actually, it kind of does. It’s about where the papacy was based.”

 

His eyes lit up. “Oh hey, that’s right. The Vatican holds records and has so much money.”

 

“It’s all about the framework.”

 

“Right. Okay. So the location of where the Church is based has a clear reflection on both the property the Church takes in as well as where that money is spent.”

 

“Exactly. Think about taxes. And the French were more united than the Italian; Italy was a series of city-states and Rome was a city-state of its’ own. It took in taxes and ran a regular government that just happened to be affiliated with the papacy. They wouldn’t have that same freedom in Avignon.”

 

Starscream pulled a fresh legal pad toward him. “We need to set the political context. The Schism happened because...”

 

“Because there were two claimants to the papal throne. Gregory whatever died, so Romans wanted another Roman, but there weren’t any viable candidates, so the curia voted for Urban something, but he ended up being not a good choice, so they removed themselves to Anagni and voted for Clement whoever.”

 

“Rival political factions then rallied around Clement and Urban, and it became a major thing.” Starscream clicked his pen. “It lasted for a really long time, and finally everyone got tired of it and hosted the Council of Constance.”

 

“Yep.” Windblade hid a yawn behind her hand.

 

“I’m gonna make you some tea, you can’t fall asleep now.” Starscream put aside his notes and poked her with the end of the pen. “You hear me?”

 

“I hear and obey, Lord Starscream,” she said dryly.

 

“Good.”

 

Thundercracker’s study group were arguing theorems that even Starscream couldn’t parse (and he was an astrophysicist, for crying out loud), and he shifted from foot to foot as he wrote the beginnings of their presentation in his head. The kettle was boiling, and he made sure to steep the black tea. It had the caffeine she needed (even if she wouldn’t touch coffee, which, what _was_ that).

 

The entire process took about fifteen minutes, and when he opened the door to his room, he opened his mouth to say what he’d been writing in his head when his eyes fell on Windblade. She was leaning against the wall and her eyes were closed. He shut the door with a loud snap, and she didn’t even twitch.

 

He growled at her and put the steaming mug on the bedside table. She would wake up in probably twenty minutes; her naps never lasted for very long. In the meantime, he could get the presentation started and rub it in her face once she woke up.

 

He got halfway through the first paragraph when he relented and rearranged her so that she was lying down. Muscle cramps were something he’d only wish on Prowl. He also tucked her hair away from her face. She wouldn’t want to breathe in her hair.

 

Sure enough, about twenty minutes later, she woke up and blinked at his pillow.

 

“After you’ve had your tea,” he told her, and she twisted her head to look at him, “you should look through this. I think it’s pretty damn good, but I know you like to make sure it’s fit for public consumption.”

 

“You’re not as detail-oriented as I am,” she said after a beat. “Move over so I can sit up.”

 

He obeyed, and she used his arm to pull herself up. After a moment of surprise, he tensed his muscles so that she didn’t fall over or hurt him accidentally. Not that she _could_ , but. Details.

 

She took his laptop and looked it over. “Not too bad, but that last paragraph could use some work.” She took the mug and sipped it. “Thanks for the tea.”

 

“No problem.” He looked at her. “Are you...all right?”

 

“What, the catnapping? It’s nothing.”

 

“It’s not.”

 

“Velocity believes that it’s my body’s response to two years worth of sleep deprivation now that I have a regular schedule again. I’ll be fine, and it’s nothing as long as it doesn’t interfere with my work, and it’s not. Okay?” Her voice was perfectly even, but she wasn’t looking at him.

 

“Okay.” He shrugged. “Just let me know if it’s something to worry about.”

 

“I will,” she said. Her hand reached out to squeeze his ankle, and he’d never felt an electric shock on his ankle, but when her hand closed around it he felt it. His skin prickled and his heart skipped a beat. She glanced at him. “I think it’s okay now. You wanna take a look at it?”

 

He put it out of his head. “Yeah. Sure. Can’t have you spreading wrong information. This is for a grade.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “So much for having a moment.”

 

“We had a moment. We passed it.”

 

“I knew I could count on you to keep me humble.” She squeezed his ankle again before letting him go. “All right, so what I’ve changed is...”

 

\--

 

 **5)** **CHROMIA’S CAR**

 

Windblade darted through the snow to where Chromia was waiting, impatiently. “We still have to pick up Nautica,” she said, blowing on her hands. “We weren’t expecting this storm.”

 

“I’ve told her we’re on the way.” Chromia look in the backseat. “You could ride shotgun.”

 

“The cold’s making my sleepiness worse,” Windblade couldn’t hide a yawn. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to lay down. It’ll take you at least twenty minutes to get to her lab in this weather, and then another fifteen to get home. That’s enough.”

 

“Okay,” Chromia said dubiously, but she turned the heat up.

 

The freak snowstorm had sent everyone on campus in a tizzy, and there were concerned students all over campus in search of blankets and other supplies. Chromia swore at them whenever they stopped too close to the bumper of her car, but when she checked in the rearview mirror, she saw Windblade was already asleep.

 

It made her smile briefly. Windblade had never been an easy sleeper, sleep too easily broken by her anxieties. The past few weeks, while nerve-wracking for her, had meant that she slept deeper than she had in all the time Chromia had been her roommate.

 

That was worth it.

 

Nautica’s bright purple coat was easily picked out from the crowd, and Chromia halted by the curb and unlocked the doors. Nautica darted inside, brushing the snow from her coat. “Man, Southerners really do not know how to deal with snow.”

 

“You noticed,” Chromia said wryly. “As if we weren’t raised in the South. Well, you.”

 

“Right, your parents moved to Pennsylvania.”

 

“But for whatever reason, I found I missed this, and so here I am.”

 

Nautica rolled her eyes at her. “DC plans haven’t changed, have they?”

 

“You still want to work for NOAA?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Then DC plans haven’t changed.”

 

Nautica leaned over to kiss Chromia’s cheek. “I didn’t know if you were _too_ homesick for this.”

 

“Oh please. Home is where you are.”

 

“Please stop,” Windblade moaned from the back. “You two are literally the cutest and all, but please save it for when you don’t have an audience.”

 

“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” Chromia commented to Nautica.

 

Nautica grinned. “Wanna bet how long it takes for her to fall asleep again?”

 

“I’ll bet a kiss.”

 

“You’re on.”

 

Windblade growled from the backseat. “ _Ugh_.”

 

\--

 

**+1) STARSCREAM’S DORM**

 

Windblade made herself comfortable on Starscream’s bed. His copy of _Toward Peace_ (which, according to Tarn, was the _only_ political theory book she’d ever need. She wasn’t fully sure if she agreed with him, but she was willing to read it, if only to stop Megatron’s scariest TA from talking at her until she did) was battered and full of Post-Its, and she wondered if she would understand his notes.

 

Starscream bustled in. “Are you sleeping _again?_ ”

 

“I’m awake,” she protested. She waved _Toward Peace_ at him. “I wanna read this.”

 

“Feel free to try. I found it really heavy-handed.”

 

“And yet you’ve filled it with notes anyway.”

 

“I was attempting to refine it.”

 

“Right.” She made herself more comfortable and moved over so that he could sit on the bed. “What are we supposed to be studying today? I thought we were on top of everything.” She winced slightly. “Please—don’t make that sexual.”

 

“If we were on top of everything, why did you show up?”

 

“It’s our standing engagement,” she shrugged. “And just because we don’t have to worry about Magnus’ class doesn’t mean we can’t bounce ideas off each other for other classes that we’re taking, but I promise I am of no help in astrophysics.”

 

“Yes, because lying down in my bed is so helpful for other classes. Not that I’m objecting to you lying down in my bed but I was kind of hoping that I’d be there--.”

 

“And there it is, the innuendo I was hoping not to deal with. What thread count are your sheets, anyway?”

 

“Luxurious. Like _hell_ am I sleeping on sackcloth.”

 

“Right.” She flipped open the book. “So am I getting this right? We don’t have anything to do?”

 

“Well, we _could_ \--.”

 

“Nope. Nice try, though.”

 

“I am going to get something to drink. If you fall asleep, I will—I don’t know, order food you hate.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Real specific threat, that.” She moved over so that her back was facing him and she started to read. The lights weren’t all on, and she started to yawn. _Shit_. “Go get something to drink.” She’d been getting better, damnit.

 

The door opened and closed, and she closed the book. The words were starting to swim on the page, and that usually meant a catnap was imminent. Damn.

 

She tucked the book close to her chest and hoped for the best. Maybe it would be short.

 

She drifted, and it wasn’t true sleep. Maybe what Velocity had told her a few weeks ago was true—the naps would shorten and then finally end as her sleep schedule righted itself. The weird in-between state of sleep and waking meant she didn’t feel rested, but her mind contained multitudes in the interim.

 

She considered her next paper for her International Econ class, and she briefly heard the door open. “Windblade?”

 

She opened her mouth to say something, but then she heard him mutter, “Of course she’s asleep. Of _course._ ” There was a rustling noise, and then she felt a blanket draped over her legs. She kept her breath as even as she could while he tucked it around her, and she kept herself still when he stroked her hair once. She sensed his hesitation, and then he mumbled, “Like, sleep good or something, okay?” He snatched his hand back, and her lower lip trembled slightly.

 

He wasn’t kind as a matter of course, but that was _kind_. She couldn’t get up while he still thought she was asleep, and she needed to grant him the privacy. At least for right then. Maybe they’d be able to discuss it later.

 

She kept an eye on the clock. Her usual catnaps were anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes. She could get up then. Time was going to crawl, but she could manage it.

 

Finally, enough time passed that she didn’t feel he would be suspicious, and she sat up. The dorm room was just this side of chilly, and she wrapped the blanket around herself before toddling outside of his dorm room. He was on the couch, watching—was that _Say Yes to the Dress?_ —something on his laptop, and she stepped around him before flopping down onto the couch. Yes, it was _Say Yes to the Dress_.

 

“What’s going on?” she asked as he made some room for her.

 

“The bride’s found a dress she liked, but Grandma and Mom disagree.”

 

“Hm. Your feelings?”

 

“It’s a beautiful dress.”

 

“They’re all beautiful.” She frowned slightly at the screen. She didn’t fully understand the wedding thing, never had, but she could identify fashion and call it what it was. “What’s their objection to it?”

 

“They want something more traditional.”

 

“Those fiends.”

 

He snorted. “You said it, not me.”

 

She settled against him. “Well, I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.”

 

“It usually does,” he agreed. He glanced down at her, and she blinked guilelessly up at him. Like she was going to make a big deal out of what he was watching. It had no plot and was body positive. Sometimes, that’s all you needed.

 

“You sleep okay?”

 

“Yeah. I think it’s finally ending, though.”

 

“Good. I’m getting tired of competing with your naps for your time.”

 

“And that doesn’t sound controlling at all.” She poked him. “Believe me, I don’t actually _want_ to fall asleep everywhere.”

 

“Guess I’m grateful you don’t have a car. You’d’ve probably fallen asleep at the wheel.”

 

“Oh Solus. Yeah, probably.” She peered at the screen. “Oh, _that’s_ a beautiful dress.”

 

“I know, right?”

 

“Fuck her mom and grandma.”

 

“Exactly.” He looked down at her. “I’m so glad we agree.”

 

She smirked at him. “For once.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am incapable of writing short fic.


End file.
